


Never, Ever

by lady_wonder



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boys Kissing, Coffee, Gay Remus Lupin, Gay Sirius Black, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Friendship, Marauders' Era, POV Remus Lupin, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Sad Sirius Black, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin Friendship, Sirius Black Being Ridiculous, Sirius Black Being an Idiot, Sirius Black Flirts, Sirius Needs a Hug, Young Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 12:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8801596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_wonder/pseuds/lady_wonder
Summary: There's so much possibility in a cup of coffee.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Another little Wolfstar drabble. I don't know why coffee is such a central theme, but there you go.

There's so much possibility in a cup of coffee.  
  
Remus realizes this as soon as Sirius asks him out. Perhaps it's the shock of the moment, the startling way that the bloke just waltzes right up to him and asks, "Hey, Moony, wanna get a cup of coffee with me tomorrow?" Such a simple request, innocent and subtle. Remus swears, though, that he lost his innocence a long time ago, and that Sirius' was gone even further back, so how could his words touch him just so? How could every trace of anger and betrayal and everything he's felt in the past month,  since his secret was stolen from him by his best mate and thrown into the face of an enemy, suddenly be reduced to nothing, as though lost...  
  
In a simple cup of coffee.  
  
He accepts, of course. Probably a little too eagerly, which is why he spends the rest of the night berating himself while in bed. _Stupid_ Remus, _cowardly_ Remus, he's going to give into Sirius way too easily, he is, and-- at that notion, there is a twist in his thoughts, like a fist wrenching in his stomach. Everything turns over onto something new and familiar, and Remus shakes with anticipation. His hands act on his own as they reach beneath the waistband of his boxers and all falls dizzy then.  
  
Once the fingers of dawn reach through the windows and graze his closed curtains, Remus' limbs are heavy and wet and his body burns with an ache he's had ever since meeting Sirius Black.  
  
Damned cup of coffee.  
  
One of the most ironic things, however, out of all that was ironic in meeting Sirius in Hogsmeade for the drink, was the fact that Remus didn't even like coffee. Could barely stand the stuff, to be perfectly honest. It's all dark and bitter, and the components of cream and sugar, he never got them accurate, either turning the stuff even more horrendous or coughing himself to death. Sirius always laughed when that happened, smugly drinking from his own cup.   
  
King of the Coffee, he was. _Bastard_ , he was.   
  
His mind wraps around his dislike as he travels into the small village, well aware that every step he takes brings him closer to the boy he swore he would no longer speak to ever again, no, _never_ again. It's cold in the heart of January and the winter bites at his skin, yet all Remus can do is keep on moving and remind himself that he is not a coffee man. Never been a coffee man-- why not tea?   
  
Tea is good, tea is British, and Remus remembers when he accused Sirius of being disloyal to his country by preferring the hotter stuff to the soothing. Sirius had taken it to heart, literally; clutching his chest while gaining an audience, he shouted dramatically (as only a Marauder could be) against the very idea of being treacherous, even if it was over some bloody drinks.  
  
Bastard bastard _bastard_.  
  
By the time he reaches the Three Broomsticks, Remus knows that the only reason he enters is because he wants to see him again. He's going straight to hell, too, all while probably holding a steaming hot mug.  
  
Sirius sits in the back, in a sheltered booth. He already has a cup when Remus slips into the opposite side, yanking off his mittens and pressing them down onto the table in what he hopes to be very put-out manner. He's not going to make this easy, dammit-- well, maybe he already has, what by accepting and now showing up, but for the rest of this, Remus is going to be a hardass. No tricks, no games. No more bollocks. Sirius better not be toying with him.  
  
This seems like a good opening and Remus takes it. "You better not be toying with me."  
  
Sirius' eyes are dark and shuttered when he looks up at him. The poor man looks wounded and Remus rapidly feels horrible for ever speaking-- though, why, he has no idea, because the bastard deserves everything he can dish out. But before some daft apology can betray him and leave his lips, Sirius shakes his head. "Never."  
  
"Never?" He chews out the word like the cold outside pricks at the windows above them.  
  
"Ever," he says. He looks up at the frost that gathers on the glass and then glances back at Remus' bare hands. Then he takes them into his, cupping his fingers like he were molding clay, and wraps them both around the mug of coffee. "Warm you up, mate."  
  
 _No need_ , Remus almost wants to say. For he is already on fire by the simple touch.  
  
Instead, he falls silent and feels only Sirius' hands on his, the warmth that radiates beneath his palms. The scent of coffee swirls up from the shallow, black pool and curls the air, curls Remus' brain, and he wonders if he can never have to feel cold again, if Sirius can just keep holding him.   
  
"I've missed you," Sirius finally says.   
  
"Good," is how Remus returns. Hardass, still, yes indeed, even if he does feel like melting through the table that sits between them and shivering into Sirius' arms.   
  
"A lot," Sirius adds. He looks up again, staring through thick eyelashes that kiss his gaze. "I'm sorry," he says, quieter.  
  
"Good," Remus says again. His voice is barely audible and he isn't at all sure as to why.  
  
But it's enough. It sets off _something_ \-- the fire, the spark, whatever the hell that was lit between them before Sirius screwed up and Remus' heart broke, before Remus stopped speaking to him and Sirius started trying to make him, before fucking _everything_ fell apart and Remus wished _every_ night it would come together again. It returns like a lightning strike in the middle of the day, in the middle of winter, in the middle of snow, and it appears in only Sirius tightening his hold around Remus' hands and tipping his head, their eyes meeting.  
  
"You _must_ \--" He chokes and chews his bottom lip. Remus twitches and Sirius tries again. "You must know-- I am daft and a fool and I am so-- _god_ , Moony, I am sorry. _I am sorry_. But you must know that I'll _never_ do anything like that again. I can't-- I can't, not when--"   
  
There is one word out of all of that that makes Remus shudder again. _Never_...  
  
"Not when I haven't spoken to you in so long-- haven't seen you in so long--" Sirius chokes again and his head lowers. "I've missed you so _much_."  
  
Remus swallows hard. There is a lot he can do right now -- he can hate Sirius, he can leave Sirius, he can betray Sirius like Sirius betrayed him, or he can... stray onto Sirius. Lean on Sirius, love Sirius, the daft bastard he is, _fucking_ coffee-drinker, though Remus suddenly remembers the way he's flavored after he's had some. Its bitter scent, its biting touch, it paints his teeth and tongue and lips that Remus would kiss and suck and lick, reveling in it, relishing in it. Loving it.   
  
Perhaps he likes coffee more than he realizes.  
  
He closes his eyes and breathes. "Never?" he asks again.  
  
Sirius looks up. "Ever," he promises.  
  
Remus nods, solemn. Sirius is dejected for a second until Remus catches the surprise that flickers in his eyes as he shifts his hands. They slip out of Sirius' grasp, but stay to the mug, and Remus brings the lip to his mouth and takes in a sip.   
  
He will admit later -- _much_ later, after he's again berated himself for giving in so easily, though this time with Sirius curled into his side, into his skin, flesh glowing with sex and sweat and love -- that the coffee is sweeter than he last remembered.  
  
"Good," he says for a final time, setting the mug down. Then he reaches over, fingers curling around Sirius' collar, and pulls him in so he can share the taste.


End file.
